


This is Fine. Everything is Fine.

by valeriange



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 13:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valeriange/pseuds/valeriange
Summary: Ron hates Draco.Harry loves Draco.





	This is Fine. Everything is Fine.

Ron is certain that his retinas will never recover. He slams the door to the closet and walks back to class with a pale, stoic face. He opens the door to a quiet classroom, and the professor doesn’t even notice him re-entering, nor do any of the non-traumatized students, but Hermione does. He sits down next to her and stares straight ahead.

Hermione waits a moment, then says, “Well? Did you get some quills?”

Ron shook his head.

Hermione patiently waits for him to elaborate once more, and when he doesn’t, she presses him to do so. He just shakes his head.

“Ron,” Hermione says, “you look like you’re going to be sick.” She lowers her voice. “Were there… spiders?”

Ron says, “I’d rather have taken Hagrid’s monster spider on a date.”

Hermione’s eyebrows arch impressively high. She doesn’t ask any more questions after that – thank Merlin. It makes Ron’s stomach queasy to think of it.

How could Harry, his best friend, half of his friend group, his platonic soulmate, be sitting in a closet with Draco Malfoy playing with trading cards? That’s his and Ron’s thing. Malfoy ruins everything.

 

They call him Draco now. It’s hard not to, given Harry.

“Ron, did you see what Draco was wearing today?”

“Ron, did you see the spell Draco cast in class?”

“Ron, did you notice the potion Draco turned in?”

“Ron, did you (verb) the (object) Draco (verb)?”

Draco, Draco, Draco. Ron doesn’t even think of him as Malfoy anymore, even in his own head. He wonders, faintly, if this is all part of some horrifically intense ploy by Draco— _Malfoy_ to creep his way into Harry’s life and wrench him away to Death Eater Central. Harry would look terrible in Death Eater robes, even worse than he did in the Weasley sweaters. As a friend, Ron couldn’t let that happen to him.

“Ron— are you even listening to me?”

Ron looks up from his porridge to see Harry looking at him from across the table, his eyebrow raised high just like Hermione always does. Ron stares back at him. “What?” he says.

“I was asking you,” Harry says pointedly, “if you knew what the Potions essay was supposed to be on.”

Huh. Right. They had an essay. Shit.

Ron says, “Maybe you should ask Malfoy. He’s really good at Potions.”

Harry replies, “Draco is in Hogsmeade today. He has been for the past two days, actually. He’s staying with his – er, his uncle or someone who’s come in to town. Apparently word has gotten around about what Lucius has been up to with the Death Eaters.”

Hermione perks up. “Oh? I didn’t know Malfoy had any other family – well, not any non-Death Eater family, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Apparently he does something in the Auror department with the Ministry. He rarely comes into town.”

“I bet Draco was excited,” says Hermione.

Ron gives her a deadpan look. It is not necessary to encourage him. It is never necessary to encourage Harry to talk about Draco.

By the end of breakfast, the only thing Ron has learned about Death Eaters and their relationship to Malfoy is that apparently he has a great-uncle in Northumberland who writes horrifically bad parodies of popular music to mock the Death Eaters. On one hand, Ron really wants to see that. On the other hand, it relates – however minutely – to Draco Malfoy, and he can’t bring himself to do it.

 

Ron spends the rest of the morning mentally cursing Draco’s uncle or whatever in Hogsmeade.

Harry is utterly useless. He pays attention to a grand staggering total of nothing in any of his classes. He mostly stares off into space, or mutters agreements to whatever he thinks Ron and Hermione are talking about, and occasionally snaps out of his trance long enough to accompany the two of them on their walk to the next class. Harry, knowing Draco is gone, is like a lost puppy.

“All right,” Hermione says when they sit down for lunch. “What’s wrong?” Before Harry can say “Nothing’s wrong”, Hermione adds, “You’ve been moping all morning.”

“Do you think Draco is okay?” Harry asks her. “I mean, Hogsmeade is a big place, and we know his uncle isn’t a Death Eater, but what if someone sees the Malfoy crest and makes the wrong assumption? What if something happens to them? It’s a long way from the Hogwarts infirmary. I wouldn’t even know. He may not even get help to begin with. He—”

“Doctors,” Hermione says. “There’s a physician in Hogsmeade.”

“Oh.”

“And,” Hermione adds, “I think most people are aware that Draco – er – that Draco’s loyalties… erm… don’t exactly lie with the Death Eaters.”

“They lie in Harry’s bed,” Ron mutters.

Hermione kicks him.

 

Hermione tells him Draco is supposed to return the next day, luckily for them, a Saturday.

Ron expects Harry to sit with them at breakfast with a much better attitude, but Saturday morning finds Ron and Hermione sitting alone, with Ron watching the doors for Harry’s entrance. Ron hadn’t seen him; neither had Hermione.

At last, Ron spots Harry’s messy black hair, but rather than making a straight line for the Gryffindor table, Harry zigzags around to the Slytherin table and takes a seat next to a pale head of blond hair. Ron can only see their backs, but they sit entirely too close. It would be so, so easy for Draco to just move his arm and elbow Harry in the neck. He could probably do it accidentally. Being that close to Draco Malfoy was a safety hazard, and Harry appears to be doing it willingly.

Ron’s breakfast doesn’t taste as good after he notices that. Damn him. Draco Malfoy doesn’t even have to touch a plate of food to turn it horrible.

 

Ron doesn’t see Harry all day. He’s not sure if Hermione does or not, because she goes off to the library with a couple of first-years, and once Hermione is in the library, she cannot be forcefully dragged out until closing time. (It’s physically impossible. Ron has tried. He has the scars to prove it.)

When curfew arrives and Hermione has trudged back in to the common room, and Dean and Seamus are conversing quietly about whether to head off to bed yet or not – something about a Potions exam? Shit. – Ron considers waiting up for Harry. He’s already breaking the rules by not being back at this time. Maybe Malfoy captured him. Maybe Harry is lying dead in some hallway now. Maybe Malfoy whisked him away to some Malfoy castle upstate and Ron will never see him again.

He thinks his theories aloud to Hermione, hoping she’ll say, “Oh, Ron, I didn’t think of that! You’re so right. We should go rescue him!” and then they would go on a grand adventure, Harry would see that Draco Malfoy is the worst, and they would never ever have to go through this again.

Hermione just says, “Ron? Go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Ron and Hermione meet up in the common room at breakfast time, and Harry is still nowhere to be found. At this point, Ron is too tired and too hungry and too pissed with his friend thinking Malfoy is cool or something to bother asking about him. Hermione smiles warmly at him, seemingly surprised he has no comment to make about their absentee friend, and chatters all the way to get breakfast. Apparently the first-years they took in this school year aren’t all demonic imps; to Ron, it’s too good to be true.

They sit at the Gryffindor table and chat, Ron absentmindedly eating his food and wholeheartedly listening to Hermione go on about something she read the other day. He can’t quite keep up with some of it, but she makes the oddest faces when she talks passionately about something, and it’s quite the thing to watch.

Suddenly Harry plops down beside Hermione, who looks at him with startled eyes. “Sorry,” Harry says, “I didn’t realize the time.”

“You didn’t realize the time,” draws a horribly familiar voice. Draco Malfoy sits down beside Harry. He doesn’t seem to notice Ron, much less curse him. “ _You_ were the one facing the clock.”

“I didn’t have my glasses on,” Harry points out.

“Yes, that’s because _you_ just left them on my floor.”

“—after _you_ knocked them off last night when we were--”

Ron doesn’t hear anything more, because then he starts gagging.

 

He passes out at some point. Apparently Harry and Draco were so disgustingly _together_ it made him literally choke.

"Don't be too upset, Ron," says Harry. "Draco makes me choke too."

As Ron retreats back into the safety of unconsciousness, he hears Harry say, "What? No! No! I didn't mean like that, Hermione, I swear, I meant emotions-- Oh my god--"


End file.
